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Judgement of the Weak
---- Looking out from the window in the elevator of the Tokyo Tower, the tall man observed the city that never sleeps at the earliest hours in the morning. His sharp features caught the interest of several morning stars around him, of whom recognised him as the Pro Hero Blood Hound. A prominent figure in society, and a danger to any criminal. The question is, what is a man of his stature doing here… this attraction in Japan. Truth to be told, Bloodhound was instructed this thirty hours ago: "Savaric. Se îndreaptă spre Japonia. Problemele trebuie rezolvate." (Translated from Romanian: Savaric. Head to Japan. Issues must be resolved.) He received from the Romanian authorities, believing he was the rightful individual for this task. Which, the Hero followed without further ado. Minutes after returning to the ground, Blood Hound stepped outside to be greeted by a blinding ray of light. Something that no longer bothered him seconds after, for his transmitter emitted a beeping sound. Information. The location of the "issues" he had to eradicate from this world. A Hero flew past Savaric, slamming into the ground near him. His shoulder was dislocated, his rib cage shattered. It was very likely that that Hero had their lungs punctured. And that Hero was dead. Gearbox spat on the ground, standing a few feet away. He was the one that had done this to the Hero. He turned towards Savaric, the public running away from the scene. “Bloodhound,” Gearbox began, his voice strangely soothing. "A false Hero, that is what you are. Merciless, bringing others to the verge of death. You are no Hero, and today, you shall fall." Gearbox continued, walking forward. "I shall end your life." With that, Jacob launched forward at much faster speeds than should have been possible for a human. He brought his fist back, and went to slam it straight into Bloodhound’s gut. The Romanian Hero eyed the fallen companion unvexed. They were merely too weak, and so they deserved their end. But, his attention shifted towards the perpetrator that announced their presence and listened calmly. His turn to speak never came, as Savaric seemingly took the brute attack with a force that slammed him backwards. Specks of dust turmoiled into a smoke cloud, bringing confusion to any onlookers. A perfect deceptive curtain for the Blood Hound. "A child's lament." His voice sounded eerily through the dusk. Walking forward, the cloud dissipating slowly around him. Revealing the Hero's shield that deflected the attack, and his warm skin had turned deadly pale, while eyes gleamed in a bloody red shade. "It shall be I who will eliminate you from this world." This Hero was not a man who saw a middle way. All spawn of evil shall be vanquished by his will. Jacob simply stared at Blood Hound. "You've certainly the physical features to be Hero. However, when it comes to the Morals? You're no Hero." the Vigilante spat. He cocked his fist backwards, his Discharger pumping in his synthetic chemical. He launched forward at blitzing speeds. He feigned a punch, and sidestepped, revealing his front. However, at such a high speed turn, he also slammed his fist towards Blood Hound’s gut, with force equal to that of a bulldozer ramming into somebody. Savaric's tainted black lips curled upwards, smirking at Gearbox's weak taunts. At least, to him. As Gearbox spoke, the Hero observed the young man; his equipment, his stance and attitude, but, foremost… his movement. After all, his foe had easily mutilated a Hero with brute strength alone. Not to say in the least he had felt the force behind the initial attack as well. He knew he had to be on alert for that. Which is why Savaric jumped upwards in response, at the exact moment the Vigilante pulled his fist backwards. His heels planted on the building behind him, his Quirk allowing him to grapnelling into the wall, making it seem he was able to wall climb. It seemed his instinct, lucky instinct, had just been in time to dodge a similar, yet, very dangerous attack. The speed of Gearbox was quite remarkable. If they were in different circumstances, Savaric would have complimented the boy. "Predictable." The Bloodhound feigns, attempting to be at the upperhand of the situation already. His shield, made from a very dense volume of his blood, becoming more transparent in loose figments. Shaping into several long and thing appendages, taking form of very thin spines from his back. There were about twelve of them, six on each side, that encaged around his figure. Four appendages, the lowest two from each side, lunged forward in eagerness to wound Gearbox. They were dangerously fast, wanting to deeply shred into the Vigilante's skin. Knowing from the last two attacks about that deadly fist, Savaric focused on rendering his arms immoveable. As he attempts this, six appendages from the top warp around him in a protective manner. He hopes he could use them as a barrier to deflect the damage, would he be unsuccessful. While, the last remaining two appendages were preparing to fusion together. The incoming appendages would have been difficult to avoid, but they were predictable. Many of his foes had gone after his arms and as such, Gearbox had many counters to them. Of course, these ones were also coming for his guts. He took note of the situation quickly, the synthetic chemical in him increasing all of his reactions. The most notable thing were the two appendages that were still fusing together. His vertical jump was rather powerful, due to his heavily trained body. The tendrils of blood, however, decided to follow his movements. He ran forward, letting the tendrils follow him. The shield was thick and durable no doubt about it. Against any normal person, it would have been practically impossible to break through the powerful shield. But Gearbox was no normal person. He had trained from a ripe age in multiple martial arts, he was in peak human shape. If he had been blessed with a Quirk, things may have been different. However, he was Quirkless, a rarity amongst today’s world. His equipment was above the rest, using a Hydraulic System to increase the force behind his attacks. His first fist easily broke through the first shield, shattering it into countless pieces. Upon noticing the other layer, Gearbox was quick to react. He stepped forward with his body, using his other fist to slam into that shield. It too shattered, but Gearbox wasn’t done there. He was practically right in front of Blood Hound, only a few inches separated them. He moved in closer, and suddenly leaped into the air. The tendrils that had been following him collided into the ones that been fusing, and destroyed each other. That would most likely confuse Blood Hound, leaving him confused as to how Gearbox had managed to avoid it. He used that split second, that second of confusion to let his attack connect. He landed, and sent a heavy blow straight towards Blood Hound’s right side. The immense force behind the attack, blew Blood Hound cleanly through an entire building. His consciousness slipped in-and-out from this. Not only was the hit devastating, the fall damage could also be the end of the old Hero. Anyone from a seventh floor would. At the very last seconds, the adrenaline of Lake of Blood kicked in, forcing him awake and manipulate quickly the shattering middle appendages as intercepting his fall. They clasped themselves into the building, slowing down the fall, until Blood Hound touched the ground with his back. His breathing was more ragged, and very uneven. Slowly standing upwards, Slavaric felt slightly dizzy and that wasn't due to using his Quirk. Touching his side, and in his horror, a small metal pipe burrowed deeply. If he removed it, he could stop the bleeding but not heal the worst of the damage. That would require time and concentration, of which he had no time for. Such unfortunate events. Running was out of option, as well. His foe would catch up with him sooner or later anyway. Taking a deep inhale, painfully, the old Hero knew his last option. They needed data on this threat, even if it would cost his life. Hiding his wound with his long coat, Slavaric stumbled further away from the building, supported by the two appendages behind him. Distance. He would buy himself time with distance. For fighting as well. He stood tall and prideful further away, showing no worries or dismay. His two appendages curling around him protectively, and yet, far more dangerous. The less appendages exist, the faster and durable they become, for he has absolute focus and control now over them. "I will discover your secret, boy." Slavaric thought to himself. Gearbox stared at his fist. The first attack had taken too long, it should’ve been sooner. However, Gearbox had begun to understand the semantics behind Blood Hound’s Quirk. Obviously, it involved the manipulation of blood, and from what Gearbox had seen, he used them as appendages of sorts. He launched himself forward, the synthetic chemical proving its worth. He stood in front of the Professional Hero, staring straight at him. "You’re a bit too old for this, aren't you?" he mocked. He gestured towards Blood Hound’s side, which the Hero was holding onto. "Your ribs are gone. You can barely stand. Surrender now, and I’ll make your death as painless as possible." Savaric laughed bitterly at the Vigilante's comment, coughing up blood after. He wasn't wrong, the Blood Hound could be too old… or the young man was an unique case. Painfully, the Hero removed his overcoat and tossed it on the ground. "Perhaps I'm indeed too old," he started. His hand reaching to caress his side again, but his blood stopped flowing as he controls the blood flow visibly, and artificially began to seal crucial organs by clotting them. It was quite a horrifying sight; a miracle that Savaric was still able to move. "But, you underestimate me!" He knew he hadn't much time left. And the worst was yet for him. Civilians watched them nearby, watching a Hero, their protector, being utterly crushed before them. With the last strength left, Blood Hound forcefully launched himself forward from the ground. He didn't use his own physical strength, but with the appendages that been his support all this time. Twirling mid-air, they rotated around with him, and caused him to feign his straight-forward attack. Using one appendage to quickly claw into the ground to change his direction, making him slide to the right and fall slowly towards the ground next to Gearbox. With this movement in plan, Blood Hound aimed to curl the free appendage around the upper body of Gearbox, wanting to restrain his movement and suffocating him with the intention of 'sinking the fangs' of the spines into him. Mere seconds later the other appendage came towards Gearbox at a rapid speed, with the intention to use this distraction by piercing his heart. Blood Hound was smart, no doubt about it. The first appendage had been sent with the intention to wrap itself around his ribs, to restrict his movement. Gearbox glanced towards it, and from the corner of his eye noticed the other appendage flying straight towards his heart. It was an intelligent maneuver, the first appendage had done its job well, pulling his attention away from the main attack. The chemical pumped through him, allowing him to rapidly process what was going on. His eyes searched around, looking for a solution. Then, it clicked. He sidestepped rapidly, the two tendrils followed him. He stopped, continuing to sidestep at awkward positions. Every time, the first appendage had to rise in height to compensate for the awkward shifts in position. Eventually, Jacob stepped towards the first appendage, and sidestepped outwards instead of inwards. Stepping towards the first appendage had caused the second one to increase it’s pace and slightly lower it’s angle of contact. It also caused the first one to rise. Sidestepping then caused the first one to turn towards Gearbox as well as the second one. The two of them were forced to collide. And all this time, Gearbox had moved closer and closer to the feeble Blood Hound. If it hadn’t been for that chemical of his, he would have been hurt, maybe even brought to the brink of defeat. He turned towards the old man, turning him towards him. That last attack, it had drained him. “It’s it a shame?” Gearbox began. “You, someone who was meant to uphold the will of others has failed. As expected of a false Hero, someone with no true purpose. You are guided by your selfish desires…” “Let it be known, that you were killed by someone without the same abilities as you...someone with none at all!” Gearbox smirked malevolently as more arms sprouted from his gear. “Thousand Arms of the Buddha!” Gearbox said. The arms went ballistic, slamming into Blood Hound’s gut. Combining that with Gearbox’s obvious prowess of countless martial arts was devastating. By the end of it, both of Blood Hound’s arms were shattered, his kneecaps, a few toes, and had multiple puncture wounds in the lungs. The arms retreated. Blood Hound staggered back, spurting out more blood at the impact, but tensely holding onto Gearbox's arm. "How... Regrettable..." Savaric ushered out with a lot of effort, the vivid eyes returned to their naturally heterochromia. "You are..." He couldn't finish it though, as the Hero’s Quirk, Lake of Blood, stopped working completely. His wounds reverting to their fatal state. Perhaps, however, Gearbox would know he realised it. That Gearbox had been Quirkless the entire time. Gearbox stepped back, staring at the limp body of Blood Hound. At this point, there would be no saving him, he would die in the next few minutes. He turned away from the body, and left the scene. He was off, off to find his next target. The true regret for Blood Hound was on his way. Something he had felt throughout his last moments of life. His true reason for fighting till the bitter end. "Papa." They had screamed their lungs out. Their hands touching his chest and face, pressuring him to stay alive. Savaric could barely make out the silhouette of his child, but felt their tears rolling down his own cheek. "Nu, vă rog, nu." (No, please, no.) His child kept chanting in Romanian, while his life slowly seeped away. Their words shattered his heart, knowing who it was. "Please, please! Don't leave me…There is so much I want you to know!" "My… sweet boy." Savaric coughed, feeling his son's anger and sadness. Something that manifested into releasing his child's Quirk, different from his. His eyes were able to see the beauty behind his youngest back, such beautiful crimson pair of wings. "Hush… now, Drago." Oh, if only Savaric could embrace his son back who continues to whimper on his chest, the crimson wings fading away, before connecting his eyes with his father. "Heh. You truly look like your mother… I-" His voice was fainting, and his son panicked further. "I love you, son." And with that, Blood Hound had died, and Gearbox was rising. Category:Roleplays